SWITCHFOOT LEARNS TO BREATHE! a Bionicle story
by CI-KiteWolfling-NYPD
Summary: What would happen if the sf boys were zapped to Mata Nui Along with a confused teenage fangirl and both charged with the mission of saving the island from darkness? BETTER THAN WHAT IT LOOKS! PLEASE READ! THE ULTIMATE FIC FOR SWITCHFOOT AND BIONICLE FANS!
1. Prologue

I wormed my way through the mosh crowd which, even fourty-five minutes before the opening act would play their set, was pressed up tight against the stage, maybe hoping for even one glimps of the band that they had come to see, Switchfoot. It was November first, and the air felt a little chilly in the stadium. Nothing I wasn't used to, though. Colorado weather tends to be a hair cooler than San Diego.

Ignoring the cries and exclamations of protest and envy from the men, women, and teens around me, I flashed my VIP pass to the yellow-clad security guard to the left of the crowd barrier, and pulled myself up on the stage.

I had no idea who the opening act even was, but they had some pretty sweet gear, I must say that. My gaze quickly swept over the mess of amps, and cords as I crossed stage left with a purposeful stride, and clattered down the left wing stairs, into the melee that was the preparation for a gig.

I recognized a handful of Switchfoots roadies, people that I had seen at other concerts I had been to. A gang of teens a few years older than me were hanging around near the crowd barrier, chatting animatedly with some fans who were hanging over the edge. I imagined them to be the opening act.

"Good bunch of kids." A familiar voice stated from somewhere behind and above me, "Loads of talent. I don't think they'd make very good Toa, however!"

"JON!" I whipped around, and was pulled into a gruff one-armed hug. The elder Foreman looked the same, alright. Every hair on his head was in place, even as he was practically bouncing up and down with pleasure at seeing me again. Khaki pants, and polo shirt..yep, this was Jon.

He never really, 'dressed up' for a gig as a girl would define it. I had been to other shows to hang with him and the boys, and had even seen him wear just plain old jeans and a T-shirt. Somehow no matter what he was wearing, he had the unnatural ability to wrap whatever crowd he was playing to around his finger.

At that moment, there was an eruption of screams behind me, and I turned around again, cricking my neck in the process. As I stood there, rubbing it piteously Jon waved cheerily at the mass of screaming fans, who were suddenly and with success trying to break down the crowd barrier.

Jon executed a quick bow as the security peoples rushed in to subdue to beast that is a crowd, and grinned at me.

"Come on, Kid, the others are in the back."


	2. Stranger than Fiction

"I finished it, guys!" I declared proudly, shrugging my backpack from my shoulder, and triumphantly pulling from it's depths a sheaf of papers.

"Did you really?" Jerome looked up from his rather uncomfortable seated position on an amp. He was tuning his Gibson himself for the show, refusing to let the roadies do it as was their job. Jerome is just like that, you know. Maybe you don't.. Oh, well, I guess it's not so weird. I know that Chad has a thing about his kick pedal being treated like one of the band members, and Jon…

"Yeah, I finished it!" I continued, taking a seat next to Drew on one of the larger Fender amps, "Just thought I'd come down here and tell you."

Tim gave an appreciative laugh. He was the one that had come up with the idea that I should write it all down, keep a record of all the things that had happened to us that last summer, and now he looked so proud he prolly thought he was the one who wrote it.

"Well, lets see it, Darlene! Come on!" Chad took a step closer from his former position leaning against the backdrop, and tried to take it from my grasp. I didn't let go, and held on firm, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"Maybe in a sec. You guys have a gig to play!"

"Thanks, 'mom'." Jon drawled in his best, 'geez your pain in the neck' voice, "Come on, we've got at least two hours! It's not that long, is it?"

Drew finally seized the papers, besting Chad in the game of grabbing, and flipped through them while I fumed silently. No fair. He was bigger than me.

"Looks like a freaking novel." The guy said, grunting.

"It _is_ a 'freaking novel' thank you very much!" I snapped, making a grab for the papers, but Drew stood up, and held them over his head. He's also a lot taller.

Drew laughed, and danced away, flipping back the title page, and began to read aloud.

"_Well, Tim said I should write everything down that happened to us on Mata Nui and in the World of Bionicle. Jerome says I might as well, due to the fact that no one is going to believe that it happened anyways, and it would make a great fiction story, even though it's real. Jon wants to help me out on it, Chad does to. And Drew? Well, I dunno. I think he has Jerome's view."_

_Anways, what happened to us was, well, really weird. And Random. That's the best way I can put it, unfortunately, My high school Creative writing teacher would kill me if she saw this intro. What a piece of crap, right? I don't care. It gets the message across. What you are about to read is unbelievably NOT fiction. It is real. We have the memories, and the scars, in some cases. Me and Switchfoot. Yeah. That was the weird part. The random part is coming up."_

"Fine, you win." I growled, taking my seat again, "You can read it."

"Victory!" Drew gave Chad a high five, and sat down to read my narrative.


	3. Tim Foreman LE WAHI

"Jon?"

Tim Foreman's face, normally in some form of a grin, was twisted into a look of fear. The young man of twenty-eight was running, stumbling though the jungle at a panicked rate, trying again and again not to trip over the things that seemed to leap up at him from the jungle floor. His breath came in ragged gasps, burst of air that were wisps of asthma from a childhood long ago thought to be left behind.

He had left the path he had wakened from far behind, and now he realized what a mistake that had been. He had no idea where he was, or how he had gotten there. All he knew was his name. Somehow that was his only comfort.

Were the younger Foreman not in such a state of discontent, the side of him that liked to stop a while and examine the beauty of creation would have had quite a good time looking over the various plants and vegetation that was around him. However, he was to bloody scared, and at the rate he was traveling, and manner of flora would have been perceived as nothing but a blur.

"Jon, where are you, bro?"

Tim wasn't so sure why he thought that his older brother was around him somewhere. Maybe it was that yawning, ominous feeling that someone was following you.

Then it happened.

A treacherous root caught Tim around the ankle, bringing him down with an almighty crash that would immediately have alerted any creature nearby of his presence. The man uttered a loud string of oaths as he slammed into the ground. Tim didn't even get up, he just inched himself against the trunk of a large tree, and leaned his head back.

'_Come on, get your nerve on, Foreman!'_ In his mind, Tim tried to replicate the harsh voice of his old high school football coach, who had a nasty ability to get Tim up and jumping even with a broken ankle, '_Keep it cool, don't turn into a wimp!'_

"Not a wimp." Tim murmured aloud more to himself than anyone else. He ran his nimble fingers through his hair, something he only did when he was under a lot of stress. He screwed his eyes closed, and tried to grasp at least the faintest trace of memory. Where was he? Was there a reason he was here? WHERE WAS JON?

Nothing. It was all blank. Tim slammed his palm against his forehead in..ha…ha…HA HA HA HA!!!! WOO!! HA!!!!

_Drew couldn't even finish the last word, we was laughing so hard. Chad, Jon, and Jerome were laughing so hard I thought they were going to die. Chad was doubled up, hooting like a madman, and Jon and Jerome were supporting each other, nearly crying. Drew actually had to sit down._

_Tim was the only one who did NOT look amused. He scowled, and uttered these words, "You make me seem like a freaking basket case."_

"_DUDE!" Jon chortled, still pounding on Jerome's back, "You WERE a basket case, bro!! That's the GREATEST part!"_

_Tim cracked an evil grin. He stood up, and went over to Drew. The man was laughing so hard, It wasn't much of a challenge to take the sheaf of papers from him. Tim took a seat where Jerome had been with his guitar, licked his thumb, and flipped a few more pages into the tale._

"_OK, Johnny. Here we go. This is where you come in."_

_The elder Foreman immediately stopped laughing, and cocked his head._


	4. Jon Foreman TA WAHI

Generally volcanoes are placed to avoid, especially the insides of them. The scalding hot temperatures, and the skin peeling substances that one can usually find in the average crater of lava can be rather, well, daunting. Even the bravest of tourists is turned off at the prospect of tramping around on the inside of a volcano. I mean, its just common sense, isn't it? Who in their right mind, honestly, would want to hang around in a volcano without the proper gear, and run the very high risk of dying?

'_I must be out of my mind.' _ Jon Foreman thought wearily, running his fingers through his hair.

To say the least, the lean, tall rocker looked out of place in that dark cave, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. The thing that would really throw off the casual observer off was the brazen river of lava gushing through the cave, just barely staying checked by its rocky bed.

Incredibly, Jon couldn't feel the slightest bit of the heat that he thought he would be experiencing. With a river of boiling lava running several feet to his left, you'd think he'd at least be sweating, right?

The elder Foreman wiped his brow for the eighth time. Nope. No sweat. Nothing.

Jon had awakened from unconsciousness with his head on a rock, and his vision set so that the first thing that he would see was that river. He leaped to his feet faster than he had ever thought possible. After panicking for a few minutes, he had calmed down enough to realize that he wasn't burning up or dying.

'_this is still freaking weird.' _ Jon thought to himself again. Once again, he ran those long fingers through his characteristic locks. It was a trait that both he and his younger brother Tim had, an involuntary act of anxiety. Jon had non idea where he was, or why he was there. All he knew was who he was.

For some reason that seemed especially important to him.

"If I ever get out of this alive, I am going to write a song about rivers of lava." Jon announced aloud, allowing himself to grin in a sad sort of way. He wasn't prone to talking out loud to himself, but he figured that he might as well, since hovering over him was a dark feeling that someone else was watching.

At that moment, Jon noticed something that he had not before. There was a rocky path following the river of fire out of the cave, out into the unknown. It struck him as interesting the way that the path was made, as though people were regularly thrown down here into the mouth of a volcano, and were expected to walk down that eerily clear passage.

"Why do I not find that comforting in the least?" Jon continued to mutter to himself.

There was a look now on the man's face that was generally reserved for contemplating life's most challenging mysteries. The fact that he was in a volcano, probably the most random place he could imagine, not feeling any of the heat, and had no idea how he had gotten there were certainly qualifying traits for the said look.

That rather ominous path was beckoning to Jon. Since he didn't think he would be doing anything all that pressing in the next little while, he decided not to ignore its call.

"_WHAT THE HECK IS THIS?" Tim cried, "WHY DOES HE GET A GOOD CHAPTER?"_

_The boys were laughing again, though not as hard as they had been at the end of Tim's little debut. The outrage in the younger Foreman's voice was contrasted sharply by the good natured grin flittering around on his features. I knew Tim was messing around, and not really as bent out of shape as he seemed, which opened up for me the wonderful opportunity to poke fun at him._

"_Well," I said, smiling wryly, "Jon has saved my life more than once, and you still owe me for the Bohrok-Kal incident."_

_Chad gave a shout of laughter, "HA! No offence, Tim, but that WAS funny."_

_Tim shrugged, still grinning._

"_Is that story in there?" Drew asked, nodding his head at the sheaf of papers Tim was still holding._

"_Yeah, somewhere." I said, "It would be much later, though."_

"_Let's skip to that part!" Tim laughed, "I wanna see how you interpreted it!"_

"_Come on, Tim, there was nothing to interpret!," Jerome said. He was hunched over his guitar once again, tuning like there was no tomorrow, "She saved your skin from a very nasty frying."_

"_Yeah, and we do have to read it in order!" I commented, scratching the back of my head, "Or it won't make any sense."_

"_We experienced it!" Jon said, hooking his thumbs on his jeans, "It'll make sense to us."_

_I rolled my eyes, "True. Ok, well, Drew's little section is next, if you want to-"_

"_OOOOHHHH!!!" All the guys hooted, poking Drew on the shoulder. I didn't think I would ever understand men from San Diego, much less Surfers turned rockers, so I just kinda stood there._

"_Let me read it!" Drew said, cracking a grin._

"_Nah, no way!" Tim laughed, "You got to read mine….i say Chad reads Drew!"_

_There were other various signs of agreement from the rest of the guys, and Tim handed the papers over to Chad._

_Chad smoothed them out with a flourish, and cleared his throat.+_


	5. Andrew Shirley ONU WAHI

'_Tunnels.' _Drew Shirley thought darkly, scowling so heavily that it was practically making his face hurt, '_why does it always have to be tunnels?'_

The veteran guitarist crept along the dark passageway, trying hard to ignore the cold draft pressing in on every side. It was a wonder Drew could even see past his nose. He could, though, for some odd reason. Every out-cropping of rock, every jutting piece of shale seemed to glow with a pale green light. However, every time he would step in to investigate the source of this mysterious lighting, it evaded him. It did not cast a shadow, and did not give off any heat that he could feel.

'Maybe it's in my head.' Drew muttered to himself, his frown still firmly in place, "like this entire bizarre world.'

Drew had been around in his years. Coming from all together separate as a short haired guitarist with a lot of talent, he entered Switchfoot as the senior member. He and the boys had been everywhere possible, from countless venues full of screaming fans, to out behind arenas trying to catch alligators.

In that dark tunnel, Drew allowed himself a small grin as he recalled a time not so long ago when he and the band had snuck into an England rock club on their European tour to play an off record show. They needed money to pay the fare for a ferry ride across the channel to take up the once in a lifetime opportunity to go surfing in France, and that night they did it!

But never had he been somewhere like this.

Drew couldn't remember how he had come to be where he was. Maybe a crazed fan had taken him captive? Yep. And thrown him in a tunnel. Yeah, that was totally it. What an effective means of torture.

_'Is my guitar playing really that bad?'_

Drew kept on walking, trying to get his brain to think straight. He had no idea where he was headed, all he knew was that his feet wanted him to keep going, and that was what they were gonna do.

"AHH!" Drew groaned at last, coming to a grinding halt, "WHERE AM I?"

He and the band were supposed to be playing a gig somewhere….at someplace. All his other memories seemed to be rather dim. On the other hand, anything that had to do with the rest of the guys was clear and perfect….

He knew who he was, and that was important, somehow. He did not know why he was where he was, or, indeed, even where he was!

Drew's brow furrowed. What was he hearing now? He cocked his head to the side, trying to figure it out. Was that a sort of a dull thumping, throbbing, or was he hearing things?

"Hearing things." Andrew decided, and continued on his way.

_"Darlene, that chapter was no fun!" Chad declared, looking at me levelly, "You didn't put in the part about Drew and his fear of tight places! That was, like, what I was waiting for!"_

_"Yeah, well, I voted not to put that in for his sake." I said, glancing at Drew._

_"Why'd you put in the part about The Ramble?" Jon groaned, slamming his palm against his forehead, "Dude, we could have gotten in so much trouble for that! Playing a show for money just so we could go surfing? Ah, man!"_

_"If you publish this, make sure that goes out." Tim grunted._

_"Well, I had to put something in there!" I said in my defense, throwing my hands out, "I didn't think it would be all that great if I added Drew having a spasm in the cave since he's claustrophobic."_

_"It was a tunnel." Jerome put it._

_"And it wasn't a spasm," Drew said unexpectedly, "Truthfully, I wouldn't have cared so much if you put it in, as long as you don't make me into a freaked out little girl like Tim here in the first chapter.."_

_"What are you saying about little girls?" I grinned._

_"haw, haw, haw." Tim said dryly as the rest of the boys tittered a bit, "OK, now who should we read?"_

_"ME!!!" Jerome cried, standing up. He placed his guitar on the stands with the rest of them, and raised his hand like he was answering a question in elementary school, practically bouncing up and down on his heels, "OHH!!!"_

_I opened my mouth to say something, but at that moment there was an explosion of cheers from the crowd that I had almost forgotten even existed as the opening act took the stage. Jon looked my straight in the eye, and said something…but his words were washed away in the sea of sound that washed over us, practically knocking us all over with its swells of guitar grunge._

_Without a word, we al knew what we were going to do. Give the narrative a break for a while, and grab some cokes. Maybe even listen to the opening show for a while, or throw Chad in one of the amp cases and let him die._

_"Don't even think about it, guys!" Chad hollered over the din._

_Dangit._


	6. Jerome Fontamillas LE WAHI

_Well, I wasn't really all that interested in the opening act. I honestly hadn't even come to see the show, just to hang out with the guys. I like watching live shows from the stands, not so much the backstage. It's so loud back there._

_The rest of the boys had dispersed; I had no idea where they went. I was left alone there, sitting on the amp case that we often liked to trap Chad in. I shuffled through the papers, and decided to re-read some of the earlier stuff. The rest of the guys could read it later, but I thought that it was time I went back to the beginning, and tried to recall every thought and feeling I had on that island…_

_I smoothed the paper out again, and began to read the section on Jerome. This one was on of my faves, and I have no idea why…_

LE-WAHI

Jerome Fontamillas is afraid of heights. Oh-he can stand them to a degree, like, for instance, standing in a church balcony looking down doesn't bother him at all. Even being in an airplane doesn't get to him. In fact, Romey suddenly discovered that the only kind of heights that really annoy him are the ones in which he can't see the ground.

Like, now, for instance.

Jerome hugged the bough of the tree for dear life, not letting go in an instant. He had awaken from a strange sort of slumber, and poked his head over the edge the wide limb on which he was resting…and had seen nothing. Just the trunks of trees plunging down into nothingness. That was when he realized one painful fact, _'I hate heights.'_

It was light out enough, Jerome supposed, but he would rather that he be on the ground. It was even warm! Muggy, one might even say.

'_OK, get a hold of yourself, man!!' _Jerome mentally ordered himself. He allowed his grip on the tree to relax ever so slightly, and he regained his head enough to release it fully, and sit up.

Carefully. Very carefully.

The man sent another command to his brain as his legs dangled dangerously over the edge of the tree- '_DON'T LOOK DOWN!!!'_

"Where am i?" Jerome muttered, looking straight up. Unbelievably, the tree he was sitting on kept right on going, with occasional limbs jutting out here and there like bizarre arms. If he strained his vision, he could make out what might have been a green canopy, intermingling with the other trees surrounding him like soldiers in a siege. He shook his head slightly. Maybe it was all a dream?

Still not looking down, Jerome turned his head to the left and the right, and somehow was a little more at peace. The soft green of the leaves and moss surrounding him no longer made him want to panic. He was still up bloody high, though.

Jerome dared to look over the edge, and found that this time he could without feeling like the world was spinning. Once again he looked hard, and thought that he could make out someone or something down there on the ground, moving at a speed usually reserved for high action chase scenes.

It all happened in a flash, that object or animal or whatever it was raced past where his field of vision was set, and was lost into the mass of the jungle. Every sense in Jerome's head screamed, "FOLLOW IT!" And that was just what he did,

Without thinking, Jerome pushed himself off of the tree limb, and was falling.

"WHAT AM I DOING?" He screamed, suddenly, arms and legs flailing as he plunged towards his imminent doom. He managed to twist himself around in the air so that the ground, so far away, was rushing up to meet him. Great. Well, at least he'd be able to see how he would die.

Then at that moment, something strange happened. Time seemed to slow down in to a hyper accelerated mode, and the fear that had been lancing all through Jerome's body was….gone! He was still falling, but in that brief time-span, something clicked, and he knew what he had to do.

Jerome lunged to the left, as far as his plunging self would allow, and barely managed to grasp a vine with his tight grip.

It swung him farther down like a pendulum of doom. Jerome could still feel his stomach in his head as the butterflies in there had a panic attack, but somehow swinging on the vine made him feel….exhilarated? Maybe not as scared as free falling to his death?

"WOO!!" Romey hollered, his face in a grin. The vine reached the peak of its swing, and once again that slow, drawn out feeling took over, and he released it. He was free falling again, but this time he had a plan. He fell for what may have been three seconds, before reaching out to the right, and snagging another vine.

Jerome swung that one out again, and let go once more. This time around there was no slowing down. He was on a roll, swinging from vine to vine like Tarzan in the jungle, making chase after the thing on the ground, which was not so far below, now.

This swinging thing was pretty much natural, now. Jerome wasn't even looking where the vines were-His gaze was on the ground, pinned on his quarry. Somehow he could sense where each and every hanging twiner was-and was able to grab it and swing with minimal difficulty.

He got another glimpse of what he was going after-and thought that he saw a familiar white American Eagle shirt flash in the green jungle below, but as he changed vines, and even threw in a summersault, he decided he was seeing things.

Jerome was getting closer and closer to the ground, now, with each successive vine he swung. Eventually, a little voice in the back of his head told him, '_time to let go_.'

And he obeyed, just as he had instantly obeyed the voice who told him to jump off the tree.

Jerome released the current vine he had been swinging on, free fell for about fifty feet, and hit the ground, hard.

He rolled three times, getting the mud into his mouth, feeling his face being scratched by various shrubs and whatnot. Finally, he came to a halt, and lay there on his back, panting.

'_OW…..'_


	7. Wind meets Water

_I smiled to myself as I finished that chapter. Uh-DUH!!! Now I see why it was my total favorite. How can you not love anything that has to do with Jerome swinging through Le-Wahi like a monkey? Or Tarzan? He he he….well, as much as I liked that image, I think that I love this one coming up even more…_

Tim Foreman came the closest to screaming that he had ever been in his 28 years as a large…._something_ came crashing out of nowhere, and hit the ground with enough force to send a tremor through the earth to where he was seated against the tree. The whatever it was rolled several times, emitting grunts of discomfort, before coming to a half, and laying on its back. It was wrapped in several vines and half in and half out of a large bush, looking like a bizarre cocoon creature that had fallen from the sky.

Tim leaped to his feet, alarmed. He staggered back a few paces, not knowing weather or not to go closer, or run in the other direction.

Then he paused, and thought for a moment that the pitiful lump there on the ground looked rather familiar.

Tim took two or three careful steps towards it, and asked rather meekly, "Romey?"

All at once, from the said lump, there was a loud moan that was jarringly familiar. Tim cracked a grin as he immediately recognized the noise-he had heard it often before, at the end of pizza eating contests, or at the end of a long day on the road. It was indeed Jerome Fontamillas.

"Timmy?" Jerome moaned, trying to at least sit up. He pulled some vines from over his face, and found the younger Foreman kneeling at his side, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Say anything, and I'll kill you." Jerome stated plainly as his fellow band member helped him up.

"Good Gosh, man! What happened to you?" Tim asked piteously, watching Jerome check himself over for wounds and injuries, "I was just sitting there, taking a breather, and _WHAM _out of nowhere falls my buddy Romey. What the heck was up with that?"

Jerome found that remarkably, he was not hurt in any way from the fall. He would have a few scratches, and maybe some bruises in a few cases, but other than that he was perfectly ok. Jerome dusted off his red polo shirt, and smiled winningly at Tim.

"Well, if you want the straight dope, bro, I was swinging through the trees, chasing someone, or something." He paused, and took a moment to take in Tim's white American Eagle shirt, "Hey! I was chasing _you_!"

"Wonderful." Tim said flatly, shoving his hands into his pockets, "So I guess than that I thought you were a hideous surfer eating monster."

"And I thought you were Jon, so I guess we were thinking of the same things."

Tim managed to force a laugh. Jerome was the worlds oldest younger brother, to be sure. He was always playing practical jokes on the rest of the band, and was always ready with a quip or playful comment. Tim gazed fondly on his friend, and could easily say that if there was any one he wanted to be trapped in a jungle with, it was Jerome. Unless, of course, he got in the way of Jerome's food.

And speaking of being trapped in a jungle..

"Any idea where we are, man?" Tim questioned, turning a circle in that deserted jungle clearing.

"No clue." Jerome said cheerfully, not a care in the world.

Tim sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair three times in quick succession.

Jerome sent a sideways glance at his friend, and realized what a jerk he was being. He, (Jerome) was feeling pretty good about himself, invigorated, even. After all, he had just conquered this jungle by flying through its clutches, had he not? And then there was Tim, still breathing a little heavily after what must have been a grueling sprint from nothing, trying hard to keep himself together as he always did, and…

Running his fingers through his hair, just like he was doing now.

Jerome wrinkled his brow. Come to think of it, he had never seen Tim run his fingers all the way through his hair like this before. There was one incident during spring tour, '05 when the tour bus broke down mere hours before one of the biggest gigs on their set, and the band was completely stressed out. Tim hadn't really run those bass playing fingers _all the way_ through his brown locks….it was more of a stroke, a sort of nervous pat, even.

"Sorry, man, I don't know where we are." Jerome said, intentionally deflating his manner, "But this is freakin creepy, I can tell you that."

Tim sighed once more, and ambled back over to the tree he had formally been sitting at.

"Ok, Jerome. I'm glad I found you, bro. Now what the heck do we do?"

Jerome shrugged, "Wanna keep walking?"


	8. The Unrevealed story of Chad

_"Hey, kid, how are doing?" Chad announced his presence in a rather startling manner. It seems that I had not noticed him reading over my shoulder until he said something, so when the guy DID say something, I pretty much freaked out._

_"Good Gosh, you scared me!" I whooped, standing up really fast. Chad was grinning that characteristically sly grin and I knew that HE knew I would have been alarmed at his presence. _

_The opening act was almost done with their set, and Switchfoot's roadies were bustling around carrying equipment and stuff. The rest of the guys were off somewhere, I don't even know, but here was Chad. He looked all set to go onstage, in his left hand was a clear water bottle full of water, and he looked primed and ready to go up there with his drum kit and rock. Just by looking at his right ear, I could tell he had his speaker thing in. The yellow chord was really visible. Chad must have followed my gaze, and his other free hand jumped to the offending ear._

_"I can never get these things in right." He sighed, taking a seat on the amp case where I had formerly been perched, and proceeded to fiddle with the instrument "They're really helpful, though, you know, to hear how you're singing, and how everyone else sounds."_

_"I know what they are, Chad." I said in a resigned voice, smirking._

_Chad laughed, then cocked his head at me, "Hey, do you care if I read my section quick a sec?"_

_I frowned, "Dude, I didn't write it, since you never told me about it! All I know is that you had a run in with Hewki, that one random Po-Matoran."_

_Chad looked confused, "Did I really not tell you?"_

_I nodded, "It's true."_

_"Huh." Chad looked puzzled at this, "I know for sure that I told Tim-"_

_"Told me what, bro?" Tim came out of nowhere as well. His hair was now all perfectly groomed, as was his custom. Personally, I believe Tim's hair to be one of his many outlets of emotion. If he's happy, it all lays flat, and looks really cute. If he's under a lot of stress, it looks ruffled, generally since when the younger Foreman is on edge, he runs his fingers through his hair. It still looks cute, though! Heh, heh, heh….Well, anyways, other people may bite their nails, or even twiddle their thumbs, but Tim plays with his hair to show that he's nervous about something._

_Right now those adorable brown locks were in a pensive mood laying calmly on that even more adorable head, though Tim and I both know that at the end of this show, all the little hairs will generally be in disarray. Running around onstage and jumping off of things does that to a hairstyle, I have come to notice. Right at this moment, all of Tim's hair swung around his face as he took a seat next to Chad on the amp._

_"Darlene didn't write my chapter." Chad said to his friend._

_"Really?" Tim shot me a quizzical glance._

_"Only cause he never told me!" I protested indignantly, crossing my arms across my chest, "I can't believe I forgot to grill you about you and the Po-Matoran! What happened, even!"_

_Tim unexpectedly started laughing, and wouldn't stop. Both the Foreman's have very distinct laughs, and I can say here and now that Tim's is probably the most diverse. It has a way of getting past any wall of refusal to join in the mirth, and forces the corners of your mouth to twitch, and mine obliged._

_"What happened, man?" I said, a smile flittering over my face. _

_Tim was still hooting, and now even had to bend over and slap his knee._

_"Nothing…" Chad muttered, turning red, also._

_"NOTHING???" Tim was red also as he came back up for air, gasping and laughing like there was no tomarrow, "How can you sit there and say nothing happened? DUDE YOU GOT ATTACKED BY A USSAL CRAB!!!"_

_I gave a shout of laughter. Ussal crabs are intensely hard to aggravate, so I KNEW there was a story behind this._

_"How did you manage that one, Mr. Butler?" I asked my face alit with glee. I wish that I had a pen with me so I could actually take notes. Chad opened his mouth to answer, a mild look of annoyance on his face, but Tim threw a hand across the mans mouth._

_"OH NO YOU DON'T!" Tim wheezed, finally calming down just a bit, his hand still over Chad's face, "I am so telling it!"_

_"TIM!" Chad exclaimed, shoving the bass man's hand out of the way.\_

_"Ok, tell me, tell me, tell me!" I giggled as Chad got to his feet, half looking like he was about to laugh, too, and half like he was gonna throttle Timmy_


	9. Tim tries, then fails, to tell us

_"OK.." Tim gave a sphinx-like smile, and began to spin his tale in a deep, dramatic voice usually reserved for movie announcer, "It all started out when Chad appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the Po-Wahi desert. It was in the western region, you know, more towards Onu-Wahi than anything. It was a hot, hot day…the twin suns were beating down on the man mercilessly…on he had to travel!!! On!!! ON!! Without any real knowledge of where he was, or why he was there! Pain! Misery! A longing to be with the beautiful lady Butler---"_

_"FOR GOSH SAKES, TIM, JUST TELL THE FREAKING STORY!!" Chad yelled, shoving his friend completely and totally off of the amp case. _

_Tim crashed to the ground, and lay there, sprawled out on his back, giving that mad laugh. He was practically smacking the floor in his uncontained mirth. You can be sure that the younger Foreman's laugh spaz was attracting attention from others nearby..namely, his older brother._

_Jon strolled over, looking ready to jump into the bull ring (AKA the scene with his younger brother basically making a fool of himself backstage). He had a towel thrown over his shoulder, and a wry grin flittering around on his strong features. The man also had a bottle of water tight in his grasp, and his brow was furrowed as he ground to a halt next to me._

_"Uh…what's happening, amigos?"_

_"Nothing." Chad said sullenly, sending daggers at Tim, who was only just getting over his laughing attack._

_"NO!!- HAW HAW!!! NO!!!" Tim crawled to his feet, panting. His face was redder than I had ever seen it, and I seriously thought that he was crying with glee, "Jon-Chad got attacked by a bunch of Ussal crabs!"_

_"Big deal." Jon shrugged, "I got mangled by a hive of Fire Salamanders."_

_I snorted. That's a new one on me._

_"Dude-you have to hear HOW and WHY he got attacked!!" Tim chortled. It was about now that I was starting to get a little puzzled by Tim's obsessive laughing….to be completely honest, it was a little creepy._

_"OK, spill the beans, bro." Jon said, crossing his arms across his chest._

_I spared a glance at Chad, and saw that at last he was grinning, too. Tim was taking a look, too, and I guess that he took it as a sign that it was indeed ok for him to go on._

_"If you mention anything less spectacular then the resurrection, I will be sorely disappointed." Jon put in, cocking his head and looking a little bored._

_I didn't have the time to wonder what the reasoning behind Jon's sudden mood swing was, since Tim took a great breath, and blurted—"He landed in the middle of a herd of Ussal, like, on one! He had a freak out moment, like we all know he's prone to and broke one of the mothers's eggs open in his rampage! Well, the crabs didn't really want to stand for that, and even though they generally like Matoran, well, in their eyes, Chad didn't really qualify as a Matoran…so they ran him out of the herd."_

_There was a ringing silence. Tim looked from me to Jon, obviously expecting to clutch our chests, and stagger around gasping and panting with laughter. Well, we didn't deliver._

_"Dude, that's terrible!" I said, my eyebrows high._

_Jon smirked, "That's not funny, bro."_

_"TOLD YA!!!" Chad shouted, pointing his finger at the younger Foreman._

_Tim hung his head in mock shame, "I thought it was."_

_There was a minute or so of increasingly awkward silence, before Jon spoke up-_

_"Hey Darlene-what was your story? You never told us!"_

_"Yeah!" Tim seemed awfully keen to get the conversation away from the humiliating waters we were in now, "You should tell us! All I know is that you appeared in Ko-Wahi, but outside of that you never told anything."_

_I flipped around in that packet of papers, and pulled out a rather modest section about me, "OK, well, you guys can read it if you want, I've gone through it so many times that I can't even count."_

_Jon shot a meaningful glance at his younger brother as he said to me,, "You don't step on any eggs, or land on any crabs, do you, kid?"_

_"Nah, no eggs." I said, grinning. Jon was poking fun at Tim in his quiet way, like he pretty much always did._

_"Tim, go shame yourself in a corner, and never come back." Chad said flatly. I could tell he was joking though. That's one thing that Chad is terrible at. He can never tell a lie, or crack a practical joke, since he won't be able to keep a straight face to save his life._

_"OK." Tim shrugged, and walked away._

_"DUDE!!" Jon called after him, but I poked Jon on the arm._

_"It's ok, man. He's not really steamed or anything, and I already told him about my little adventure. Chad knows about it too, since he was there. I think you're the only one out of us all who I didn't tell, Jon!"_

_"Geez, I feel loved." The lean singer muttered, taking a seat next to me on the amp case._

_Chad saluted to me, "I should find Tina and the kids, they said they'd be here to see the band off on the fall tour."_

_"OK!" I said, grinnind, "Tell Evan and Dylan I said hi."_

_"Will do. Happy reading, jon!"_

_"Yeah, whatever." The elder Foreman muttered, giving the papers a ruffle, and beginning to read._


	10. Darlene Postma KO WAHI

To say the least, I looked out of place in the middle of that arctic wasteland. At the time I didn't know that the snowy scene I had appeared on was the north face of Mount Iho-heck, I didn't even know I was on a mountain!

I didn't know why I was there, out in the middle of nowhere. I had no real memories…I couldn't remember anything…other than my name.

Darlene? Yeah, that was it. .

I had been lucky enough to have appeared from nowhere on one of Ko-Wahi's many ice trails, as opposed to out in the middle of the untamed winter-wahi. The fresh snow was in no way packed down on the said trail, rather, it was blowing unsteadily all over the place. This made for a rather challenging walk, an almost easy going on the normally slick surface. Once in a while my steadily plodding feet would break through the thin blanket of new snow, and I would slip spectacularly-but I always managed to catch myself before hitting the ground. It was as if my reflexes were sharper, quicker, and eventually I didn't slip at all.

I wandered down that path, looking every which way for some sure sign of life other than my own. Instinctively I had my arms crossed across my chest as though I was cold, when in reality I couldn't feel the biting temperature that I knew I deserved.

Of course, I could feel the wind, and the snow caking on the very bottom of my jeans, but it wasn't cold. The most I could say about it was that it gave my skin a sort of a tingling sensation. Is that a later stage of hypothermia?

One thing I had noticed that unnerved me more than anything was the fact that there were _two _suns in the sky peering down at me with intense interest. They were pale yellow, and seemed rather out of place with the white world I was in now. Why there were two suns to begin with, I could not say, and the only real explanation was that I was dreaming.

"But this can't be a dream!" I muttered to myself. I took a moment to bend down, and trace my name in the snow with my fingers, "Can it?"

The wind blew my name away, the epitaph to the little world I was in now. My name. Darlene. That was all I knew, and would probably be on my tombstone if I died out here.

Involuntarily, I formed a snowball, once again marveling how the temperature of that little ball of frozen water wasn't getting to my hands. Were they numb? Was my entire body slowly shutting down?

That's when I heard it. A deep throaty growl. A really nasty deep throaty growl.

_ "It was a Muaka, wasn't it?" Jon asked me, looking up from his reading. _

_"Keep going, and you'll find out, man." I said mysteriously._

I stood up quickly, that pounding in my heart growing louder and louder. What on earth was that?

I slowly turned around, and nearly fainted.

There was a monstrous creature standing not thirty feet from me on the path. I immediately interpreted it as a giant tiger/lion…but a closer look past the swirling snowflakes revealed that there was something distinctly…surreal about this beast. Almost mechanical, in a way. The creature took a step foreword, a single, fluid step with a paw the size of my torso, long supple tail flicking high in the air behind it- and I knew one thing. This was not a mechanical beast. It was too real. , Much too alive to be a robot.

Yet that was the way it was built! Even from so far away, I could make out wiring, and what seemed to be hydraulic pumps where its joints should have been. Had I appeared in the middle of a scientist's nightmare?

The thing was slinking towards me, getting closer and closer, and I couldn't move. It looked cool, I have to say that, but it obviously had some intent of harm, looking at me with those red eyes. Why couldn't I move? Were my feet quite literally frozen to the ground? I did not spare the glance to check to make sure. It was the eyes that had me transfixed-it had to be!

They were slitted, narrowed in extreme dislike, as though I had done something to anger it. The shade of red was captivating in itself-twin pools of never-ending scarlet. They regarded me with a cool, calculating air, as though I were being summed up in the heat of the animals gaze. This was no dumb beast-behind those eyes was a cold and calm killer who probably was going to eat me.

It was impossible to judge the almost robotic beings height, due to the fact that it was low to the ground, stalking me like a cat stalks a mouse. At last my left foot broke free, and I took a hesitant step back.

The cat thing froze…and it opened its great jaws and gave another heart stopping growl. That pretty much made sure I wouldn't move as it continued its way towards me.

I could see its teeth now, great huge fangs that were longer than my forearms, to be sure. They were so white that they made the surrounding snow seem almost gray in color. It was the teeth that shocked me into this realization-"_that thing is going to eat you if you don't pick up your skirts and RUN!"_

With that, I wasn't planning on sticking around to see what kind of stew it would make of me. I wrenched my other foot free, and began a stumbling run in the opposite direction.

Yeah, Jon, It was a Muaka, and at the time I didn't know that the worst thing you can ever do when a Muaka is stalking you…is run. As I took those few leaps towards what I thought to be freedom, I heard the roar….and felt hot breath on the back of my neck, and my life flash before my eyes as I nearly fell flat on my face with pure terror.

I knew it in my heart…the creature had made a brazen leap as I had started to flee, hoping to end it all with the minimal amount of effort…but it had missed, most likely for the first time in its gory career, and I sure hoped _not_ for the last time.

I think that I managed to stagger on for another twenty feet or so before I slipped again…and this time I couldn't catch myself. I hit the ice trail hard, and rolled off of it…and sunk my entire left side down into the drifts that wait by the trail side like thieves to steal your balance.

I thrashed around in the snow for about three seconds…when I saw the Muaka coming for me, one paw after the other, still on the trail. It was pissed, and the light in its red eyes stated plainly that I was going to die, but the only question was…how long it would play with me before I would be lunch.

It gathered itself for that final spring, and I decided to close my eyes. I didn't really want to see that giant cat leaping at me, with murder in its eyes.

Then-

Nothing happened.

My eyes were still screwed shut, and I was hoping, praying that my death would be swift. My immediate thought was that I had died, but then I realized that I still felt the wind brushing against my cheek. Was the beast toying with me?

"You can get up now, human." A brusque voice said, and a strong hand gripped my arm (Which had thrown itself in front of my face, in a vain attempt at protection) and yanked me to my feet with seemingly no effort.

I saw two things at once-that giant beast frozen in midair, literally. It was a block of angry ice, claws out, stopped in the act of attacking. Then I saw him.

Kopaka Nuva, Toa of ice. He was standing right in front of me, mask to face, and he didn't look happy.

_"That's awesome!" Jon said lightly. He wasn't totally on the edge of his seat, drooling for more, but I knew that my narrative had interested him. Had Jon wrote it, there would have been a lot more describing stuff. Jon is an incredible writer, and I've got nothing on him._

_He grinned sideways at me like he always did, and cocked his head so that his golden hair fell in front of his face, "Really-when has Kopaka ever looked happy?"_

_I smiled, "When Our Kohlii team flattened yours at the final last season."_

_Jon scowled good-naturedly, "Ah, that was a set up. Ask Tim, and he'll give you the whole conspiracy theory as to why Ga-Koro got eliminated in the bronze mask invitational."_

_"I'll be sure to take him up on that." I said, laughing._


	11. The Great Kohli Debate

_"That last season was mad!" Jon groaned, shooting me another grin, "No one expected Onu-Koros team to make it to the Silver mask.. Tahu told me that they never usually even last through the first round invitational, but then to beat stone, fire, AND ice at that first game?? How the heck did that go down?"_

_I shrugged, "Psshh….i dunno. I couldn't look Drew in the eyes for weeks after we got demolished in the preliminaries."_

_Jon kept giving me that bizarre grin, "We all know that Ta-Koro totally deserved to win the Bronze mask, and that Ko-Koro was just a bunch of-"_

"_I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT!!!" I nearly shouted, plugging my ears. Jon looked alarmed for about one second, but then he realized I was joking around, and he allowed his countenance to fold itself into an expression of mild pity._

"_You living a lie, Darlene. Ko-Koro TOTALLY got steamrolled by us, and there was no trickery involved….you lost fair and square. Then after that heart wrenching defeat….your team walked out on the field, and proceeded to get flattened by Onu-Koro, the underdog. I laugh in your face."_

"_Feh.." I snorted, still nursing a grudge at that rainy, miserable match so many moons ago._

_Kohli was something that the boys and I loved to argue about, It was the biggest sport on Mata Nui by a long shot, eclipsing even the engaging Ko-Matoran rooted Huil snowball sling. Every Matoran on the island knew each score and game highlights for every game in a season. Jon, Tim, Chad, Jerome, Drew and I got caught up in it weeks after we got settled into the island. Debating over who should and shouldn't have lost, and why they lost/won was common practice on Mata Nui. It was true Kohli spirit for the winning teams to be suspected of some sort of foul play, although in reality each team played honesty to a faull.. These wild and generally unserious accusations often involved impossible theorems and explanations to them. In fact, a wide spread rumor about Onu-Koros sudden and unexplained success in last years pre-season was that they had kidnapped Toa Pohatu, the undisputed patron of Kohli, and forced him to mentor the team. Of course, this fell through, since ever Po-Matoran knew that Pohatu was in no way kidnapped, and during most of that pre-season slot was out on his own Kohli field, coaching his team._

_Kohli was pretty much an intense combination of hockey, soccer, and full body tackles. Its an easy game to understand, but rather challenging to play. With only six teams on an island playing this game, the seasons can be quite short lived, but heated. It starts out with an invitational, (bronze mask.) Traditionally, for that first match its fire vs water, ice vs wind, and stone vs earth, but depending on how the pre-season tossups turn out, things can change. Whatever three teams win the Bronze mask move on to the Silver mask of course, which is a three on three tournament. I think you can see a pattern here. The two highest scoring teams move on into the ultimate face off…..the Golden Mask Finals. _

_The fervor of Kohlii is incredibly infectious. There's something about watching four or six Matoran down in those extravagantly built Kohli fields that makes me want to jump up and down and scream like I'm at a rock concert._

_Speaking of rock concerts…._

_My time was running out to hang with the guys. The roadies were pretty much done with the set up, and only needed to tape down the set list on the stage before Switchfoot was clear to go on. Jon knew it to, and stood up quickly, exchanged wordless messages with the backstage manager, who was standing near the stage, motioning him over. Jon nodded at me briefly, and then went on his way._

_"Give 'em Muaka fangs, Jon!" I hollered. Over the din of the crowd, I think my statement got lost, and didn't even reach my friends ears. I suppose that was better, then. If any one else had heard me, they would have thought me insane. _

_Out of the woodwork came the four other guys, prepped and ready to go on. Jerome was jumping up and down, getting some pretty good ups. I gave a little sigh. Well, I guess that we would all resume talking after the snow, and maybe during the tear down. I carefully, almost reverently gathered all the papers together in my narrative, and placed them back into my backpack, giving my friends the thumbs up as they jogged up the stairs onto the stage, and were greeted with many a raucous scream._


	12. Earth Meets Fire

_The boys opened up with their wall of sound classic, 'Meant to Live.' As the pulsing waves of guitar washed over me with all the force of a gale force tide in Gali's bay, I smiled to myself, and slid down onto the floor. Crossing my legs, I shuffled some more of the papers, and proceeded to read the next chapter in my story._

_The lyrics Jon was now streaming for the crowd seemed to fit this particular chapter very well……….._

_"Fumbling his confidence, and wondering why the world has passed him by…"_

"_Alright…" _Drew thought to himself, coming to a halt in that dark passage, "_There is no freaking way that this tunnel can possibly go any deeper…"_

And on that note the lean singer kept on his not so merry way, muttering mutinously.

That was about a half an hour ago. Oh Contraire, my Switchfoot friend. The tunnels can go deeper, and they did. Deeper….and deeper…and deeper still. So deep, in fact, that Drew was sure that any illusion of an outside world was only a figment, something of his imagination. The pale green light that seemed to shadow everything was starting to flicker dismally. Drew had given up trying to discover where his source of light was coming from. When God gives you a blessing, you don't ask why it was sent.

There was still that sound…that steady thumping in the earth, a sort of repetitive pulsing. No matter how hard he tried, Drew couldn't identify what it may have been. Foot falls? No…to loud. Swings of a tool of some sort? Maybe. He pushed on

It was getting much louder, more noticeable. So loud, that more often than not Drew would stop completely and revel about it for a few moments.

Then, all at once-

"_Helloooo………"_

The voice, so sudden in the midst of all the dark and nothingness, was jarringly familiar. It echoed and bounced in the green luminescence, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. Drew froze, his heart racing. Who was that? Was there someone else down here in these tunnel passages with him? Why did it sound so familiar?

"_Helloooo……..anyone???"_

"I know that voice…" Drew whispered to no one in particular. He began to walk again, his pace a little higher than what it had been before, fueled by the possibility of meeting another human being that he knew. Pretty soon he was at a full blown run, once again thankful for the inane ability to see in the dark.

"I KNOW THAT VOICE!!!!" Drew hissed once again, and this time he was talking to himself, egging himself on, excited. His feet were slapping against the rocky ground, sure of their steps. He wasn't going to fall. In some weird way, he could sense where each and every outcropping was, and managed to avoid it.

"_Anyone? Yo!!! Please come and…"_

"I KNOW HIM!!" Drew whooped, flying around a corner, practically leaping for joy "ITS—"

_WHAM!!!!_

Drew saw stars as he slammed full force into something very hard and very large. He and his attacker both fell with an almighty scuffle to the ground, and simultaneously began to emit eerily similar curses, any of which would have made a sailor blush.

"_Well…." _Drew thought as he laid there, mind in a daze, "_At least he speaks English."_

"What the freaking….owww….."

That voice Drew had been hearing apparently had a body to go with it. The force that had been crushing Drew's leg rolled off, and Drew got a good look at it. Wait….he knew this guy…yes he did..

"JON!!!"

"Wha-a..HUH???" The elder Foreman was surrounded in that green light, just like everything else. He spun around, hands out and groping, looking blind, "Drew? Is that you? Where are you? What's going on here?????"

"I just crashed into you, bro!" Drew pulled himself to his feet, and patted his friend on the shoulder, "What the heck is going-"

Jon recoiled at Drew's touch, staggering away, eyes wide open, darting this way and that, "Where are you? I can't see anything! DREW!!!"

Drew paused, and watched his friend blindly try and locate him. Jon's breathing was irregular, and Drew could see beads of sweat forming on the man's forehead. Drew took a gander at his friend's hair…and saw that it indeed was mussed up, a sure and definite sign of stress. The slow and meticulous way that Jon would even take a step was enough proof for him

"Man…..can't you see anything?"

"What the HELL do you think?"

Jon took a wild swipe in Drew's general direction with this barbed statement. Drew grabbed his wrist, and held it tight. Jon never usually swore like that. Drew decided to take things slow……very slow.

"Its me. Drew Shirley. You are Jon Foreman. Me Drew. You Jon. Am I getting through? Can you hear me??"

Jon relaxed, a grin flittering around his mouth. _That was the old Foreman I know! _ Drew thought cheerily, watching the man's eyes. Rather than looking right back at him, Jon was peering intently off in some direction just above Drew's left shoulder, "Jon….I think you're blind. I can see plain as day."

"Wonderful…" Jon looked steamed, his brow creasing, "This doesn't make sense. I could see everything clear about five minutes ago.."

"You mean with all this green crap."

Jon sighed, "What the heck are you……"

Normally in a Drew/Jon conversation, at this point of confusion (Which was often reached whenever these two tried to mince words) the two in question would lock eyes, laugh, and start over, each trying to make his point clear to the other once more. Drew found that last part challenging, due to the simple fact that since Jon couldn't see him, they couldn't make eye contact, and try again.

"Where did you come from?" Drew asked, his eyes boring into Jon's, as though by will trying to get Jon to see, "Like me, just found yourself standing in a tunnel?"

"Not quite." Jon chuckled, "I 'woke up' next to a river of lava. OH…hey bro, you can let go of me now."

At that moment, the point of laughter in a Drew/Jon attempted conversation was reached. The two tittered a little awkwardly, but it still qualified.

"I don't get why you can't see!" Drew said, "Are you blind or something?"

"Can't be, unless something happened to me in the last ten minutes." Jon replied, still looking blankly over Drew's shoulder.

"He is not blind…." A deep random voice said from somewhere above their heads, "He simply cannot see as you can, Toa Drew."

Drew sighed, and looked up resignedly, staring at the rocky ceiling.

_'I Would much rather sign autographs than do this, thank you.' _He thought grimly….as something stared back.


	13. Jerome and Tim Hang around

"OWCH!"

Tim Foreman smacked his arm hard, with a little yelp. He shot an offended glare at the small red mark now on his forearm, and then chanced a look over at Jerome.

"Why aren't the bugs getting you, man? This is the eighth time that I've gotten bit."

Jerome shrugged, fighting down a mad urge to flash a wolfish grin, "I Dunno, bro. Maybe you just have the animal magnetism that attracts all those fan girls to you."

"Hilarious." The younger Foreman muttered, rolling his eyes, "Only you would equate _fangirls _to _Annoying bugs that bite my skin and suck my blood._"

The two men had carried on since they had met, crashing unceremoniously through the jungle growth. Each had shared their story with the other, and had come to this no-brainer conclusion—_They didn't know where they were, but they knew who they were, and who the other person was._

The pair continued on at their slow, methodical pace. Tim was at relative ease now that he had a friend nearby. His fingers hadn't gone anywhere near his hair with the intention of running themselves through. In fact, those long and nimble bass plucking babies never even went in the general area known as, 'Tim's head.'

Unless, of course, you count the numerous occasions where the guy had to scratch the back of his head due to another-

"BUG BITE!!!" Tim hollered, smacking his other arm again.

Jerome couldn't hold himself back this time, and let loose with a snicker that sent a wounded look his way, postmarked with this address.

_Tim Foreman_

_Standing to your left_

_Out in the Middle of Nowhere, The World_..

As a good friend, Romey was trying to be sensitive, but for some reason everything seemed funny. He couldn't stop cracking jokes about the dumbest things…and he couldn't seem to stand still. It was like having a major case of ants in the pants, not to mention ADD squared…

Once Tim was done with the, '_give Romey a death glare'_ ritual, he took a single step on into the undergrowth. That's when the fun started.

All at once something clamped firmly around Tim's ankle, heaving him straight up at a frightful pace. The young man gave a short cry of alarm as his world tilted crazily, and he suddenly found himself dangling precariously about thirty feet from the ground…head first and hanging by his ankle.

His shirt fell over his face, which was steadily turning red. Tim flailed around with his arms for a bit, trying to fight gravity and cover his bare chest, while at the same time thrashing valiantly against all odds. He quit when he felt the rope, or whatever it was, that had his ankle bound quiver threateningly.

Tim allowed himself to relax, blood rushing to his head madly. He hung there for a few seconds, heart and head pounding. He managed to get a glimpse of Jerome through the soft white folds of his shirt.

Jerome was standing far below, looking very much like a fish out of water. People very rarely are completely openmouthed, but that was what Romey was. Completely and totally at loss as to what had just happened.

"_YOU GONNA JUST STAND THERE AND LET THE FLIES DRIFT INTO THAT OPEN CARVERN YOU CALL A MOUTH??!!!" _Tim screeched at the top of his upside down lungs, "_DO SOMETHING!!!!"_

Jerome gave his head a little shake, and closed his mouth with a snap. After swallowing and blinking a few times, he peered intently up at Tim. The guy's long an luxurious hair was hanging straight down like some weird and beautifully conditioned mop..

"Dude….what are you doing up there?" Jerome asked dimly.

Tim crossed his arms across his chest. He considered quite a few barbed responses to this ingenious question from his friend, but seemed to settle for giving Jerome another look of death, quite the incredible feat when you're hanging upside-down. He filled his lungs up again, and hollered, "_ROMEY GET ME DOWN_!!!"

Jerome finally seemed to get what was happening-his friend was strung upside down like a stuck pig. He cocked his head to the side, and asked blankly, "How?"

Tim was spinning slowly now, suspended in midair. With each and every successive turn, he could feel his stomach clenching a little more. He squeezed his eyes shut, not thinking he would be able to handle another turn in the air.

"_I DON'T CARE!!!" _He hissed with incredibly volume past clenched teeth, "_SURPRISE ME!!!!!"_

In fact, that day seemed to be the day for surprises. Tim's eyes widened as he saw something behind Jerome that the young man in question did not.

"Romey-behind you.."

A voice very close to Jerome's left ear whispered, "Humanling, whatever you do, do NOT take another leapstep foreward, or you'll end up tiestrung up like your Toafriend."

"W-What the—"

Jerome whipped around so fast that he criked his neck, incidentally taking another step foreward. Yeah, I bet you can see what's coming next.

The guy had just enough time to take in that vividly green _someone _who had been _floating _next to him, chatting away, before something seized his ankle with a viselike grip, and hauled him straight up as well.

And he found himself hanging upside down above that clearing as well…right next to Tim Foreman.

"Hey bro." Tim deadpanned, looking slightly nauseous.

"Wassup."

Jerome, upside down, was also having troubles keeping his shirt on, continued and said "I just thought I'd drop by. Hang in there."

'_Haw Haw'. _Tim thought woozily, and then managed to grunt "Thanks, man. You don't know how much that means to me."

Jerome missed the sarcasm.

Lewa Nuva, Toa of Air zoomed up those few yards to where the two men were hanging, flying with an easy grace to their sides. He shook his head and tutted sympathetically.

"Ash bear traps, oh humanlings. What did I speaksay to you, ToaHero of Wind?"

Tim shot a look at Jerome, "I want to go home."


	14. A Complete Sentace From Kopaka Nuva

To say the least, Kopaka the Toa was a being of few words.

The most the guy said to me after he found me on the side of that ice trail was, 'Hurry up' and, 'Come on.' The first he threw my way as we were heading through a particularly fierce snow storm-me staggering, he stalking coolly. The second was a cold reprimand for an attempt to walk around a large drift and not through it. Apparently my path of chose erred on the way of imminent doom. (At least in Kopaka's book.)

The way he would trudge on like giant ice formations and snow drifts were nothing made me feel more than inferior to his obviously so trained ways. I could feel the wind whipping mercilessly at me as we continued on our way, but as before couldn't feel the cold. It was an eerie sensation, watching all that snow and ice, but never feeling any of it. I made no note of it to my quiet guide-if he didn't see me as a weak shivering little human (Which he obviously was not) then that was all the better for us both.

I could feel the wind, and the snow biting at my face in its voracious way, but like I said-it wasn't cold. Sure, it was making me stagger to one side or the other, but I could always manage to make it through the wall of white without giving out one shiver.

At one point, Kopaka actually said a complete sentence, regarding my wellbeing. With the snow swirling around us in a white chaos, he turned on his heel, looked at me levelly, and said shortly, "Aren't you cold?"

"No." I replied, using this opportunity to catch up with him. I was a little out of breath from out trek and was-(here I wiped my forehead)-SWEATING?

We were both knee deep in the white stuff, and he swiftly looked me over. He must have been convinced that I was not merely trying to play tough, because he bobbed his head once, and continued.

"Where are we going?" I called after him.

"Ko-Koro." He didn't even bother to look back at me-the wind caught his voice and chucked it my way, "We're close."

How any one could make out landmarks in this blizzard was beyond me. I kept my pace up, not wanting to fall behind and get lost out here. My thoughts began to wander once more into a conflicting debate as to where I was, and why on earth I wasn't cold. I went on for a few more minutes in silence, and then I couldn't bear it any more. I trotted up to Kopaka, and spoke.

"Where am I?"

"On Mount Iho." He said, once again not sparing me a glance. He merely kept on his way, as though I was no real concern to him, "You're on the island of Mata Nui. Ever heard of it?"  
"Not once in my life."

"Thought so." And thus concluded one of the few conversations I would ever have with the guy.

_"He sure was a sweetheart, wasn't he? "I grinned to myself. My ears were pulsing. As I had been sitting there reading, the boys had rolled through, 'Stars', 'Politicians', 'Gone, and even their runaway hit, 'Dare you to Move.' I put the papers away for one sec, unceremoniously shoving them into my backpack. I got up, and crossed the floor till I stood with a better view of the stage._

_It was the scene of a typical concert. Jerome at the far left with his synthesizer and keyboard, Drew hovering a few yards away, Chad with his drumkit right in the center of it all, Jon in front, working the crowd, and little old Timmy off on the far right, working the female percentage of the fans with frequent hair tosses. Of course everyone but Chad was leaping around like maniacs…I hadn't seen it at this show yet, but Jon was known to leap off of Jerome's piano back onto the stage. He sure was a crowd pleaser. _

_Jon was just entering the bridge of, "Oh! Gravity!', their energy filled latest single. He actually started bouncing around on the balls of his toes, slamming chord progression after chord progression. I could seriously feel the entire venue shift with his energy. Chad was an animal out there on his set, but then again he always was._

_"Why can't we…seem to keep it together…sons of my enemies, why can't we…"_

_I crossed my arms, and grinned that evil grin. I know The boys had penned this song up before any of our Bionicle adventures had come to place, but the lyrics they were spouting right now seemed to fit two Mata Nui type predicaments I can think of right off the bat…, one involving two very frustrated Switchfoot boys hanging upside down in a tree.._


	15. Ever Windfly a Gukku?

The scene would have been something out of a Hollywood reject bin. Two grown men were hanging from an incredibly tall tree, strung up by their ankles, rotating in the air like they were on a rotisserie. That's not mentioning the random green man of unintelligible species floating gently in the air next to them.

Tim was feeling even sicker than before.

"I can't feel my face." Jerome deadpanned, his comment intended for the younger foreman, "Or my body for that matter." He shifted himself, and gave a little yelp "OWCH…never mind, we're totally functional…."

Tim didn't reply. He had a feeling that if he opened his mouth, he would be shouting all manner of things that sweet, calm, gorgeous Timmy had no business saying. How bizarre was this? He was strung up like a pig in the middle of nowhere with a friend who couldn't seem to stop cracking dumb jokes. Oh yeah-did we mention the random floating guy?

"What good sport, eh, humanlings?" The green man chuckled, crossing well muscled arms across a broad, armored chest. He drifted on the breeze closer to our captive heroes, "I have not seen any beast save an ash-bear get caught in such a laughmaking way!"

"Hilarious." Tim was royally pissed off, giving that upside down death glare, "Get us down right NOW."

The green dude pulled out a large wicked looking blade, and shrugged, "As You wish, toa of water."

Jerome's eyes widened as the guy wound back, and let fly, "WAIT!!!---"

_Shrink!_

The world came flying up to meet them as Jerome and Timmy fell headfirst into the ground, fortunately they were in now way hurt, despite the fact that they had landed on their heads. The ground was soft and earthy enough that there was no real pain from the impact, except the death blow to ego.

Tim moaned, shook his head a few times to get the dirt from his beautiful tresses, and looked around for Jerome.

"Romey….??" He looked up, and his jaw dropped for not the first time that day,"Oh You have GOT to be kidding me…."

Jerome and the green stranger were floating in the air next to each other. The stranger in question, still had that wicked looking blade he had used to cut down his prisoners in his hand. The Green man must have caught Tim's wary look, because he suddenly put it away, where, Tim could not make out.

Jerome still had a small length of vine wrapped around his ankle, hanging down about two feet from the ground like a bizarre tail. He looked totally unscathed. Tim squinted against the light of the _two _suns….and thought that he could see Jerome's face….glowing?

"So, humanling, you bear the powermask of levitation as well?" The green man thwacked Jerome on the shoulder in a way that was probably meant to be friendly, but had so much force behind it that Jerome went spinning towards the ground, arms flailing.

He tried to regain height, but Timmy lashed out with his left hand, and sized the length of vine that was still connected to Romey's leg, gave it a tug, and brought his friend back down to earth, hard.

"Sit here." Tim snarled. Romey obeyed.

The green man laughed long and loud, and slowly drifted back to ground level as well.

"Welcome to Mata Nui, humanlings!" He spread his arms wide, and seemed to radiate energy and affection, "I am Toahero Lewa Nuva, and you are in my homerealm of Le-Wahi! I welcomegreet you to the treebright land of ashbears, Muata Vaca trees, the Gukku bird, and many other strangegreat beasts of my land! Long have we watchwaited for you, the fleshymatoran toaheroes! There would be more Matoran to meetgreet you here, and takefly you to my homevillage, but it is the discthrowing gameplay back in Le-Koro, and I am the lonelyone out on watchpatrol! Luckychance I foundsaw you dangling from the beartraps, eh, Toaher of Water?"

Lewa paused after the end of his speech, arms still spread apart, waiting for a response from the two rather confused men.

Tim sent a desperate look at Jerome, completely lost, "He's trying to tell me something, I _know _it!"

"Oh, I got it!" Jerome nodded his head. Timmy arched an eyebrow. The following is a translation of their high speed whispering as they bent their heads together

_"Are you kidding me? You understood a word of what that guy was saying?"_

_"How didn't you get it? It's as plain as day!"_

_"I understood maybe every other word. OK, genius, what did he say?"_

Lewa scowled behind his vibrant green mask, "Curse the treespeak of my people! Maybe Toahero Gali is on her way, and will speaksay what I was trying to handget you to understandknow…..but if I speaksaid….i…."

"Dude, just stop." Jerome said to Lewa, nodding his head at Tim, "You're confusing him even more."

Lewa hung his head.

"Can you..start over?" Tim asked slowly, "Like…maybe speak so I can understand you, and not just Jerome here?"

Lewa cocked his head, "I haven't speaksaid a word in normal tongue since……."

"Try." Tim commanded, getting unsteadily to his feet. He crossed his arms, and glared levelly at the guy.

The atmosphere would have been comic, except for the fact that Timmy was almost crying with exasperation and stress. What on earth was going on? He really needed someone to explain everything to him. (Ideally in a language he could understand)

"I think I can translate." Jerome said in a tone of voice usually reserved for extreme connoisseurship , "You take a rest there, Lewa."

Tim rolled his eyes, "Gosh-romey-"

Jerome waved his hands, "No need to thank my honorable person, Timothy. Toa Lewa is simply welcoming us to his land of Le-Wahi, which is on the island of Mata-Nui. He also listed off some of the flora and fauna, then went on to say how he and his people (Who I guess are called Matoran) Have been waiting for us. There was a sporting event of some sort back in the actual village, and he was the only one out on patrol, while the rest of his village watched the game…am I right so far?"

"You truespeak, Toahero of Air!" Lewa bobbed his head, and smiled widely.

Tim shook his head, "That was totally not needed, man. I would have figured it out. Why were you people waiting for us?"

Lewa randomly did a backflip, and landed on the lower bough of a large tree with perfect balance and grace, "You truespeak do not know? You are the Humanling Toa that the prophecies have foretold! Toahero Tim Foreman's son, of water, And Toahero Jerome Fontamillas's son, of wind."

"What?" Romey looked confused.

Tim's eyes were full of hope, "Lewa, was it? Yeah..can you tell me the names of the rest of these…toa?"

Lewa clasped his hands behind his back, and recited, "Toahero Drew, Shirley's son of Earth, Toahero Chad, Butlers son of Earth…"

"No way." Jerome grinned, "This is insane."

"Is there a Toahero Jon, Foremans son?" Tim asked tenativly.

Lewa snapped his fingers, and laughed, "That is the one I cannot think of!"

Tim actually started bouncing up and down with joy, "YES!!! Jon's here!"

"You sound like a fangirl, bro." Jerome said, watching his friend with a cautious eye.

Tim glared, "Bro, he _is _my bro. Special bond there, man."

"Who are these fangirls of which you speaksay?" Lewa asked innocently.

"It's a Humanling thing, Lewa." Jerome joked, shoving Tim on the shoulder, "Tim gets a lot of them. Any chance that we can meet up with the rest of us humans? I'd like to see some familiar faces after this."

"It is a suredefinate thing!" Lewa said. He took another artful bound backwards into the tree behind him. Jerome and Tim were carefull to check the ground as they followed him.

"Let's go, then!" Tim said cheerily, clapping his hands, "Which way?"  
"You won't be able to meet them instantnow!" Lewa said in a tutting voice, "The discgame is going on! I shall windfly us back to the koro, and we chall watchplay the rest of it! Then we may meetgreet the other toa. Perchance the lovely Toahero Gali will come…"

Tim glanced at Jerome, "What?"

"Just follow him." Jerome sighed, and pulled ahead.

"Are we walking there?" Tim called out to their guide, Lewa looked back over his shoulder, and laughed again.

"Are you insane, humanling? A true toahero of Le-Wahi never walks! He soarflies! He windives! He vineswings! OR…." Here Lewa paused for dramatic buildup…"He gliderides!!!…A GUKKU BIRD!!!"

Tim threw his hands in the air, "I GIVE UP!"

Lewa raised two slim fingers to his mouth, and let loose a long stream of strange sounding notes. They were in no way unpleasant to the ear, but were so unlike anything that either of the men had ever heard, that It was rather chilling.

All at once there was an explosion of noise and color as a large and deadly creature came buzzing in from nowhere and everywhere at once. It hovered like a helicopter in the clearing next to the branch Lewa was now positioned on. While Tim and Jerome cowered from the beast, Lewa leaned out and stroked its neck lovingly

"And this, my humanling friends…is Ka."

Ka had a long sinewy neck with a beak like a sword. Tim did not doubt in the least that the animal could kill him with one blow. The build of the creature was bizarre, there were four wings flapping rapidly rather like a hummingbirds. They were about the size of a canoe, and from what he could tell, as thin as paper. Its tail reminded him of a helicopter rotor, flapping like the wings with a frantic rhythm.

Its eyes were yellow, and while they looked fierce and rather sinister, you could tell that they were really just as playful as a puppies. Indeed, Ka even gave a little shriek of pleasure as Lewa stroked its neck.

"WordPhrase of advice." Lewa called, giving the creature one last pat, "Don't start patstroking his neck….He never wants you to stop!"

"I'll keep that in mind." Jerome murmured.

Lewa gazed fondly at Ka, who gave another heartstopping screech, "Have you ever seen a more greatpowerful rahibeast in all your seasonyears?"

Tim rolled his eyes, "No, never."

Jerome took a closer look at the animal. He poked Tim.

"It looks like a robot, mate. Check it out, its even got all the little hydraulic tubes and gears and whatnot."

Tim took a careful step foreward, and did indeed check it out. Ka appeared to be some sort of mechanical beast. His gaze went from the large, 'rahibeast' to its keeper, the fall green man otherwise known as, 'Lewa'

"So is he…" Tim noted, but kept it to himself.

"Come, glideride before Ka thinks he is not needed!" Lewa gave another strange whistle, and Ka took off, coming to a rest at waist height in front of Tim, who looked like he was going to collapse.

"Umm…" Tim found himself eye to eye with that mean looking sword mouth.

Lewa tisked, "Have you never windflied a Gukko bird?"  
"NO, can't say as we have…" Jerome came to stand next to his friend, 'Mind giving us the crash course?"

"Without the crash?" Tim blinked.

Lewa leaped down from his position, and stalked over to Tim and Jerome.

"I can't believe what I'm seehearing! You've never windflied a Gukku? How do you humanlings get to where you're going in your world?"

"Sometimes we don't fly." Tim said pointedly, "Sometimes we even just _walk._"

"What a boring world that sounds like, I must speaksay!" Lewa said. He nodded at Jerome, "Toahero of wind…you get on Ka first."

"How does one go about getting on a twelve foot beast with a beak sharper than Timmy's wit?" Jerome asked quietly, also staring the animal right in the eye.

None of them quite saw how it happened or where it came from, but there was a sudden and violent burst of wind that swept the two men off of their feet, and three yards into the air. Before Tim could even start feeling scared, a large animal had caught him on its back, and he found himself next to Romey on Ka's back.

"Did you do that?" Tim demanded angrily of his friend.

"Nope, that was me, Toaheroes!" Lewa laughed. He pulled two of his swords from out of nowhere, and took a hopskipping run, "Hang on tight to something, but not Ka's feathers!"

"Wait-"

Ka gave a great screech, and launched himself foreward. Tim pitched back and nearly fell off, but Jerome caught him and held on to him tight. Everything was a green blur as the animal took to the skies, darting here and there, obviously thinking that its riders knew what they were doing….


End file.
